Let's admit that Marvel has succeeded with its MCU experiment: the Marvel Cinematic Universe has unabashedly adapted its comic books to the silver screen, carving out a niche for an entire pantheon of superheroes making visitations upon the masses every holiday season, re-telling their formative tales with cosmic stakes that dwarf any quotidian concerns, flooding popular culture with enough memes and merch that it would make a real Greek god jealous.
DC has been trying desperately to enter this race, but their insistence of grim-dark angst as the overarching mood for their cinematic universe does not seem to have resonated well at all, and the sales figures reflect this lukewarm reception. I had to hate-watch Zack Snyder's self-indulgent undisciplined extended cut of Justice League just to get through it. And can someone please explain why Batman and Superman were fighting again in that earlier trainwreck that shall not be named? And please don't get me started on the cringe-anthology of one-liners that was Suicide Squad.
Sorry I generally don't like to dunk on media I don't like; I usually neg it via omission alone. So why did I mention all those unflattering views? Because Wonder Woman (2017) was a breath of fresh air on the DC slate - the combination of Diana's confidently feminine feminist origin story and the cathartic simplicity of classical heroism - unconditional goodness versus unmistakable evil - really stood out from the confused misses of the other DC superhero films thus far. The inevitable sequel, Wonder Woman 1984 (2020), completely surprised me for wholly different reasons and I really need to talk about it.
I'm not going to say WW84 deserves any awards for direction, acting, special effects, cinematography, stunt-work... these are all serviceable to the extent that they do not distract from the story being told. So, the reviews for this film aren't great, with a 58% rating from critics on RottenTomatoes. And I can understand why it received such abysmal scores, because the movie does have many flaws - chiefly stemming from the crime of trying to stuff in too many characters, convolutions and concepts that individually run out of steam without really synergising into the greater plot. Pity.
But I have to say I'm secretly pleased that the crowd rates this film much lower than I would have myself, as if I found something of value that everyone else seems to have missed. See, I'm not a nitpicker when it comes to media appreciation. I prefer to take each piece as it is presented to me, eschewing any temptation to second-guess the author's intent or method of execution, remaining perfectly content to judge the work based on the utilitarian conceptual novelty it delivers to me. I'm easily inspired by ambition, intrigued by novelty, and have a soft spot for scrappy underperformers with glimpses of potential - which probably says more about me than the media I like.
So, this is a conceptual review is what I'm trying to say; all my reviews are conceptual reviews anyway. I assert that WW84 is trying to tell a postmodern fable in an interesting way, and I feel compelled to convince you to give this movie a chance, look past its flaws, and appreciate the moral at its core.
Every fable has a moral; that is its raison d’être. If you're just here for the moral of the story, you don't have to wait very long. The prologue of the film is a magnificent 8 minute sequence that foreshadows this core message, which you can see here. (It's not a spoiler if it's the actual clip itself, right?)
Let's break down what's being said here. Young Diana participates in a race with other Amazons, and is proving herself to be no less capable than the other experienced athletic competitors. She is clearly the underdog, and uses intelligence to overcome some obstacles because she cannot win based on brawn alone. (Who isn't a sucker for a good underdog story?) But a spot of bad luck threatens to wipe out her early lead and prevent her from finishing the race. She could have just given up but she doesn't. Again, her quick-thinking allows her to identify a potential shortcut, which she successfully executes, giving her the lead once more. She is so close to winning the race when her aunt forcibly pulls her out of the running at the last second, denying her the chance to complete the contest!
But why?! Her aunt insists that despite her love for Diana, despite Diana's valiant efforts, despite the impulse to root for the underdog, Diana's use of a shortcut rightfully disqualifies her from the contest. She didn't deserve to win. It doesn't matter that Diana's heart was in the right place, doesn't matter that she had done her best till the very last second, doesn't matter that she could have won if the misfortune hadn't occurred in the middle of the race. The truth is that Diana cheated. Even if no one else saw what Diana did, even if the use of the shortcut by no means made her chance at victory a foregone conclusion, and even if she had taken home the prize after all, somewhere in her heart, that inkling of self-doubt would forever haunt the memory of the victory.
By pointing this out (in not so many words) Diana's aunt illuminates such a complex yet universal human feeling. What is the feeling exactly? I would describe it as the little death from the guilt of winning an undeserved prize. This scene alone, I kid you not, made me raise my expectations for the rest of this movie. A big part of why this scene works so well is Robin Wright's charismatic portrayal of aunt Antiope. A testament to the thespian that her 10 lines in the beginning of the film are powerful enough to carry the entire tale despite the cheesy lines and occasionally stunted pacing in between.
I love it when I discover such things. For example, did you know the Greeks had a single word for the feeling when you know what the righteous and noble course of action should be, but in the heat of the moment your heart isn't strong enough to take the high road and instead succumbs to base temptations? They called it akrasia - the weakness of will despite our best intentions. Imagine that, a single word for such a complex yet relatable part of the human experience, as if they fully expected to use it often in their conversations.
So what is the moral of this episode, and by extension the core message behind the film itself? I think it is this. The truth may be bitter and we may have to fight every instinct of our very being to not bury the unpleasantness in favour of a more palatable delusion, inventing any number of what-abouts and so-whats to justify the validity of that sweet sweet lie to ourselves. But having the wisdom to know oneself deeply and summoning the discipline to face the truth and its consequences is the harder path, the heroic path. We may not all fell giants and dragons before breakfast on Sunday, we may not all invent cures for cancers and terraforming machines to manifest abundance for all, but if we can develop the capacity to stay self-aware and self-disciplined, we can become the everyday heroes that the world desperately needs. That, in my view, is the moral of this story. Slow clap.
The way this moral plays into the main plot however is a bit less finessed, but there are still flashes of ambition and brilliance that glint through every once in a while. WW84 plays off Diana's origins in the world of myth, and throws in a demon-god of mischief in the form of a magical crystal called the Dreamstone, that is said to grant any wish made in its presence. Where's the mischief though? Any and all wishes are granted, but there is always a catch, an unspoken parameter that is also shifted that the wisher has failed to account for. The characters reference a book called "The Monkey's Paw" in which a cursed artefact also grants wishes but visits hellish consequences for any fool who tries.
What's interesting is the juxtaposition of this mythical artefact into the modern 1980's world that Diana inhabits. Diana is a historian working with a museum, and her colleagues are all experts and scientists of various stripes. When this artefact rolls in to their collection, they see its description as a wish-granting stone but do not take it seriously for even a second. Instead, the crystal elicits just a chuckle and an internal monologue that goes something like "I don't believe this primitive mumbo-jumbo but fine, if I were to make a wish, this is what it would be." But the stone is really magical, and the wishes are granted... and slowly reveal themselves to the askers...
Here the film takes a creative approach to depicting the initial reaction of the asker when confronted with their wishes. They are typically shocked and surprised at the same time, unable to decide whether it is an uncanny coincidence that the conditions of their wish happen to emerge organically just so soon after making that wish, or if the stone was really magical after all and they are witnessing a real miracle that defies all logic. But this momentary cognitive dissonance is quickly cast aside because the object of their deepest desire is right in front of them… Who would look a gift horse in the mouth after all, never mind that there are subtle hints that suggest that the monkey's paw effect is already in action. For example, a character who wishes to be more confident to socialise better also finds themselves becoming less nice, thus diminishing their chances of making friends anyway.
So the three main wishes by the three main characters - Diana, Barbara (a colleague who later becomes the villain known as Cheetah), and Max (conman and antagonist) - are really fascinating to deconstruct, at the risk of minor spoilers.
Diana wishes to spend more time with her long-dead lover, Steve Trevor. Steve Trevor doesn't return as a zombie of course; but instead, a 1980s man very similar to Steve in appearance and demeanour is taken over completely, and then subsequently presents himself to Diana as her long-dead lover. In the first couple of takes, Diana only sees the stranger's real face and hears his unfamiliar voice. But as she hears Steve's words and memories coming out of the man's mouth, she stops questioning this strange but opportune turn of events, at which point she only sees what she wants to see and hear - Steve's face and voice - henceforth. However, there is a catch. The more Diana embraces this fantasy, the weaker her godly powers become, effectively making her mortal as the film progresses.
Barbara, a new archaeologist at the museum, brilliant but socially awkward, is enamoured by Diana's beauty, grace and confidence. In a moment of weakness, she makes a wish to be more like Diana, not knowing of course that Diana is in fact Wonder Woman. So Barbara does find herself acquiring a glow that comes with genetic superiority, strength comparable to the Amazon warriors, and of course a newfound sense of confidence. The catch? Barbara wished to be more like Diana - having only in mind the superficial bits - with no clue about Diana's other flaws and inner struggles. These shortcomings also come as part of the package, manifesting as an ever-present temptation to unleash violence on anyone who might slight her just because she can, a sense of restless competitiveness as if to please a demanding parent, and a superiority complex that leaves little room to respect those weaker than herself unless tempered with uncommon humility.
The most underrated part of WW84 is the main antagonist Maxwell Lord, and that is entirely because there are so many attempted layers to this character. Played well by Pedro Pascal, Maxwell Lord is a man desperate for success, admiration and fame, and will do anything to get these things. (Recall the moral I mentioned above. Max didn't get the memo...) Once he gets his hands on the Dreamstone, he immediately pulls the cliched response when dealing with djinns - wishing for more wishes. In this case, and in a brilliant deconstruction of the Monkey's Paw, Max wishes to become himself the granter of wishes. The crystal disintegrates as Max himself becomes the Monkey's Paw in the flesh. This means Max can now convince anyone to make a wish in his presence, any wish at all, and he will personally grant it. But Max then turns around and takes something in return from the asker, anything at all that he sees fit. (Too bad the movie never explains how exactly Max came up with this ingenious plan.)
But where's the mischief here? Simply put, Max desires power, respect and influence - not unlike every tyrant in history - but what use is power, respect and influence in a world barreling towards utter destruction? Who really wants to rule over a graveyard of bones?
You see, all of these wishes, and their failed outcomes, reveals that our fantasies are hopelessly constrained by an assumption of ceteris paribus - all other things being equal, what one-sided tweaks would make my life so much better? What we fail to account for is that these tweaks have real-world ripple effects that may shift conditions sufficiently that there is no longer a clear advantage for us, and some broader implications could even be disadvantageous.
Moreover, if 8 billion humans each get the same opportunity to tweak our common reality to their momentary benefit, then the net destabilisation of the system also collapses any advantage I might have dreamed of for myself. In other words, if everyone gets to wish for what they truly desire, no one will actually get what they want because the world that is left behind won't even be recognisable. Like John Muir said, "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe."
Indeed, the film captures this snowballing chaos quite well; as more and more people get their wishes answered, the level of disorderliness and destabilisation is reflected onscreen. Ramping up all the way to the most existential conflict of the 1980s - the Cold War. Ah, so that's where the decision to set the movie in the 1980s comes into play. You see, this film tries to bundle in too many concepts. Each individually brilliant, but unfocused altogether.
The final insight is from the resolution of this plot. Warning: climactic spoilers ahead!
Max goes out into the world conning peers, rivals and royals alike out of their possessions, with each acquisition making him more powerful beyond imagination. While his initial motivation was simply to save his failing company from bankruptcy, and even that only to be seen as a hero in the eyes of his son, Max's obsession with acquiring more power for its own sake makes him blind to the needs of his son. (All his son wants is for Max to spend time with him, to be loved and be present. Nothing more, nothing less.)
Eventually, Max settles on a plan to literally run a televangelist broadcast service, granting wishes to viewers around the world in real-time. But of course, for every wish granted, something is being taken, and the order of the world chipped away just a little bit more. The satire is rather thick here.
How does Diana save the day? She is reminded of the moral she was taught all those years ago, that the truth may not be as rewarding as the fantasy, but only with self-discipline and self-awareness can we recognise the value of the truth. Her noble nature, with Steve’s encouragement, leads her to un-wish her wish, thus returning all her superpowers. (Yet another metaphor?) And indeed it is this message that she tries to impart to the millions of viewers of Max's broadcast. Even as Max tempts them with limitless possibilities - his answer is always to wish for more - Diana appeals to them to look around, recognise the disarray of the world and their role in its unmaking, to consciously un-wish their deepest desires in favour of the truth, and to learn to find contentment in reality as it is. Reject the fantasy, however sweet its lies, and embrace the truth, however bitter the pill.
More vs enough - isn't this truly emblematic of our civilisation's current predicament, apparent in everything from personal crises of meaning to planetary climate change? WW84 is literally attempting to be a fable within the crowded superhero genre, with a mother-figure who fights evil by imparting compassionate wisdom instead of bluntly applying brute force to impose her will, conveying one way to confront the spirit of wetiko - an Algonquin word to describe a cannibalistic spirit that is willing to do anything to sate its passions, inevitably destroying even itself - that exists in all of us.
Ultimately there are no villains in this story because no one - not even Max - begins with explicit malicious intent. What is immoral really about wishing for your deepest desires to come true, if those desires don't seem to directly hurt anyone else? Well, for one thing, externalities matter! Even indirect harm, however hard to trace, is our responsibility to minimise as moral beings. And besides, as I mentioned earlier, the interconnectedness of all things means that our conveniences can easily become others' nightmares. As Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us with his teachings of interbeing, "I am like this because you are like that".
Here is where the moral Diana learns at the beginning of the movie can help us navigate this dilemma in real life. How does one fight wetiko? Start with a devotion to the truth above all else. Grasp not for prizes you do not rightly need or deserve. Take on responsibility as a solemn duty. And beyond that, if we want to see changes in the world, the best place to start is to be the change within yourself. Want to see more art in the world? Become an artist. Want to see less poor hungry people? Start feeding and housing the needy. There is no other way, there is no better way. The obstacle is the way, because that is the path that will build your character, clarify your priorities, and highlight the choices that define your heroic story.
So maybe now you can see why to me, WW84 is an ambitious and flawed movie, but a gem nonetheless. I was surprised no one praised the plot and its nuances more when the film was still doing the rounds, but I’m glad I watched it despite the overwhelmingly bad review scores online. I'll be thinking about these lessons for quite a while longer.